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Bring Back Cantona!
Tony Cascarino thinks a few kung-fu kicks would sort out the yob element in football crowds.
Tony Cascarino, 10 Mar 2005
Rather than condeming him for his shush-ing gesture at the Carling Cup Final, the FA should give Jose Mourinho a medal for standing up to these morons who think they can scream obscenities at you for 90 minutes and get away with it.
Slagging’s one thing, but shouting “Hope your kid dies of cancer!” or something equally sick is behaviour that no manager, player or official should have to tolerate. You know what? Bring back Eric Cantona and let him steam into a few fans. That way we might weed out the cowards who eff and blind their way through games, and then go whining to the police when somebody has a go back.
I know this is a very un-PC thing to say, but when Cantona jumped over the barrier and kung-fu kicked that yob at Palace, I applauded.
I was substitute for Gillingham one night up at Doncaster and all I heard while I was doing my warm-up runs was this bloke shouting “You cockney so-and-so”. After the seventh or eighth time I said, “Why don’t you shut up for just two minutes and watch the game?” Which was the cue for me to get a hot meat pie in the chest. I know it’s got its humerous side, but it shows how difficult it is sometimes for players to maintain their dignity.
Somebody who has precious little of that left is Craig Bellamy whose refusal to shake Gary Caldwell’s hand after Celtic beat Hibernians on Sunday shows that he’s still the same charming chap he was at Newcastle.
You’d have thought that after being criticised so publicly by Graeme Souness he’d be on his best behaviour, but no, there he is making headlines again for the wrong reasons.
I’m amazed that Martin O’Neill didn’t have a word in his ear following the previous week’s cup visit to Clyde when he allegedly taunted Darren Sheridan about the size of his wage packet.
I know Darren through his Republic of Ireland brother John, and a nicer, more honest professional you couldn’t hope to meet. You can understand somebody wanting to stick one on Bellamy when he tells a player of 17-years standing that he can come round and dig his garden for him. Unless he gets a grip of himself, Craig Bellamy’s going to end up in some back bar playing pool and telling sad stories of how he could’ve been a contender.